


Wait for Me

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Fictober 2019 [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Asra and Muriel face a difficult parting.
Relationships: Asra/Muriel (The Arcana)
Series: Fictober 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696495
Kudos: 5





	Wait for Me

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fictober prompt: "Can you wait for me?"

Waves stole pebbles from the rocky beach to tumble them against each other, throwing them back like a child discarding a toy after being summoned for supper. The tiny gray stones had been worn smooth by the ceaseless movement, sanding down every snag and corner. Asra stared at the water licking his ankles and tried to hold his tears at bay. If only he could entrust his heart to such an ending, leave it here on the shores of Romania to be lapped away to nothing by the sea, perhaps he could take solace in knowing it was to remain where he had found love.

“Thought you’d be here.”

Asra turned around, holding out his hand to invite Muriel into the water one last time. “You always know where to find me.”

Muriel rolled his shoulders in place of an answer, both of them conscious of the fact that such a declaration was no longer so certain. “Did he say where you’d go?”

“Down to Constanța first. I would guess he has a ship waiting, or we’ll charter one and sail to Varna. Probably Constantinople, eventually, although he didn’t say that. With a threat like, ‘I’m going to sell you to the Ottomans,’ it’d make sense to get to them first.”

A massive hand came to rest on Asra’s neck, massaging him with a gentleness that belied the strength behind it. “You could run.”

Asra leaned back, resting against Muriel’s side. The top of his head barely came to his collarbone, the fluffy white hair that wasn’t covered by his headscarf waving in the evening breeze. “Not this time.”

“Asra—”

“No!” He pushed away from Muriel and knelt, letting the sea pool in his hands before splashing it onto his face. It tasted of sadness and bitter regret and all the stupid, clumsy mistakes he’d made, allowing the two of them get caught. Tears rushed to meet the droplets of water coursing down his cheeks. “No. I won’t run away from this. It would… it would…”

“He said he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What?” Asra startled, looking over his shoulder and up into Muriel’s stoic face, half hidden by his hair. All along, he thought he was doing Count Lucio von Lutz’s bidding to save Muriel from his clutches, being sent away, sold as a throne room marvel to keep his lover out of the hands of a power-hungry madman. As far as he was concerned, the Count had never even seen Muriel, much less spoken to him. Only bad timing and underhanded dealings with even more underhanded people had led Lucio to find enough evidence to blackmail him in the first place, and only that because Asra refused to help him curry favor with the Ottomans without it. And now… “No, Muriel, please tell me you haven’t—”

“He swore he wouldn’t. He swore!”

“What did he make you do?!” Asra sprang upright, water scattering into a crystalline rainbow as he whirled around to grab Muriel by the arms. His headscarf dropped to his shoulders, eyebrows peaked in distress. The tears welling in his violet eyes leaked over one by one despite his attempts to hold them back.

Broad, calloused thumbs caught those tears before they joined the seawater below. “I’m joining him. In Austria.”

Asra stared blankly, his eyes too wide for too long as the softly spoken words sunk in. He sniffled once before his face crumpled and he threw himself against Muriel’s solid chest, shaking. Muriel let his own tears fall without disruption as he held Asra close, thinking only of how safe his love would be with Lucio far from here.

“I can keep him away from you.”

“He’ll make you fight, Muri! He’s a noble and a butcher! No, if he thinks he’ll take you, he’s wrong. We can both run now. There are plenty of places to hide.”

Slowly, Muriel shook his head, drawing Asra closer. “It’s the only way.”

“What do you mean? He thinks I’m squared away to board a ship with him in the morning, and apparently he’s also convinced you’re marching off with him too, both of us protecting each other. No one’s watching us, right? Let’s just go!”

His eyes squeezed shut, Muriel gestured with his head towards a sandy rise. With the setting sun behind it, the man standing guard over them was nearly invisible, his bayoneted rifle a needle against the blaze. “They’re just letting me say goodbye.”

No. _No_. Where had all his time gone? Asra felt weak, the waves that sucked at his feet dragging him down rather than buoying him up. Let the faceless soldier cut his damn heart out, leave him here and add his blood to the water. Let the sea polish him of all these rough edges that hadn’t cut so deeply mere days before, when he and Muriel were happy, in love and fighting for what they believed in rather than yoked to the tempestuous whims of an Austrian tyrant. “Muriel, I…”

“I love you.”

They’d never said it before. Not out loud. It had always been too dangerous to speak the words, but now?

“I love you, too. I love you, Muriel. And if I have to go to the ends of the earth to free you, I will. I will!”

“Asra…” His eyes spoke volumes, green like the forests he was leaving behind. “Stay safe. For me. Please.”

That he couldn’t promise. Asra knew it, and he knew Muriel knew it too. “Will you wait for me, Muri? I’ll come as soon as I can, but will you wait?”

“I have to do what he says.”

Fears neither of them wanted to voice lingered in the gathering dusk like ghosts, ashen faces lurking just out of sight. The Count’s army would travel fast, faster than Asra, deep into territory he’d never visited before across countries buzzing with unrest. And if he arrived too late, Muriel would have been deployed again, unable to say where, the likelihood of his return as unknown as any of their fates. Darkness stole across the sky as the two of them stood together, their tears adding salt to the sea below.


End file.
